End of the Golden Age
by Skepsis Forever
Summary: Chaos spills into the 3rd millennium where the Order of the Reapers would have intervened. By the 10th millennium, there is only war and the laughter of thirsting Gods. Fusion fic.
1. Chapter 1

_Title: _**End of the Golden Age.**

_Alternate_ _titles_**:**** Ending of the Golden Age **(first used)**, Time of Ending of the Golden Age **(draft title)**, Warp Effect **(possible future title?).

_Type:_ Crossover between _Warhammer 40000 and Mass Effect._

_Setting: _Takes place in the Mass Effect universe, shortly after Shepard's resurrection.

_Status:_ In progress.

_Summary:_ Chaos spills into the 3rd millennium where the Order of the Reapers would have intervened. By the 10th millennium, there is only war and the laughter of thirsting Gods. Fusion fic.

**_Disclaimer_: **I do not own the _Warhammer_ or _Mass Effect_ franchises. I make no profit from this story. All characters belong to their respective owners. You are welcomed to republish, modify, adopt, rewrite, archive or do with this story what you want, as long as you give me credit for the original idea, preferably with a link to my profile, and that you make no profit from the distribution of this material (that'll get both me and you in trouble). You do not need to ask me permission to do this, although a heads-up would be appreciated.

_* Exceptions: _Lord GEM/Gem is my character; I reserve the right to use him as my property in the future. You should contact me if you want to use this character.

* * *

_It is the 10th Millennium. For almost a hundred centuries The Empress has sat trapped on the Golden Throne of Earth. She is the Master of Mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of her inexhaustible armies. She is the Just Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that she may never truly die._

_Yet even in her deathless state, the Empress continues her eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the fastest route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Empress' will. Vast armies give battle in her name on uncounted worlds. Rescued by her from the perils of the warp and distant times and places are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. Native to her galaxy, aliens and mutants alike find refuge in her Imperium, saved from the hate and bigotry of an uncaring universe._

_But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from xenos, heretics - and worse._

_To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in very perilous times. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, hardly to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods._

* * *

Commander Shepard, now Empress Shepard, sat on her Golden Throne reminiscing over the last thousands of years. When the times were more simple. When all she had to worry were gangs coming for her, training under the Alliance or saving the Galaxy from Reapers. Thinking about it, she believed she could have pulled it off, and maybe live a decent life, then finally die. Damn Prothean Device. Damn Chaos. Now she was stuck here. Not physically, of course, but politically in the least, and she begrudgingly admitted she was the safest in the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra - she almost snorted at that thought - from all the enemies she had accumulated, that could not only render her flesh useless - a problem she might have little issue with after all this time - but her soul and mind as well. And those were things she dared not leave on the hands of another, especially her race's enemies. Or to leave her Imperium for others to rule who might stear it to madness, for that matter.

And it had been going so smoothly back then. Well, compared to these times, it was pretty smooth. Just some Collectors abducting humans. The Citadel barely payed attention, and now looking at the bigger picture so did she.

Then came Sovereign, the colossal thing, at the gates of the Citadel. Everyone was expecting a firefight, but still, in the interest of acting like they gave a fuck, the Council ordered communication with the... thing, Geth Dreadnaught as they believed it was, to ask its intention. And, to the surprise of Shepard and many others, the thing actually answered. And its news was chilling. It claimed - using Council-speak - that it indeed belonged to a race of Reapers, who may have had intentions that the races of the Galaxy would understand with great difficulty unless they were enlightened, but that that wasn't the reason _it_ was here. No, it came to deliver a warning. Half its species - sentient machines it had described itself - had been corrupted, their creators had literally ran from the oncoming storm, and that there would be a great war coming between those two factions - the pure and the corrupted - but not only that, that this corruption would affect every corner of the Galaxy with a sentient being in it. It went on to describe the true creators, as well as purpose, of the Mass Effect Relays and the Citadel, that for the Reapers to come and "harvest" all space-faring life in order to "protect" it and "preserve" it. It then gave the Citadel races blueprints and instructions on how to disable them from Reaper use only, with only one-way ticket for Sovereign to leave from where he came.

Everyone was stunned, to say the least, at the news, some disbelieving, but with blueprints that not even the Geth could (re)discover in such short amount of time since their creation, they had to believe them, as a race of at least 50.000 years (if they were the creations of the Protheans) and millions of years, if they were what they claimed to be.

Yes, the warning was heard, and with it, the Collectors and the Geth came, claiming to be under the Old Machine's protection, and offered their help with maintaining the borders of the Galaxy from threats without, while everyone hoped the Reapers would annihilate each other and spare the Galaxy their wrath. For, what could be so bad as to make sentient machines tens of thousands - or millions - of years old run to sentients and warn them of impending doom? And from what Shepard knew of the original agenda of the machines, she knew even if the purists would win, they'd bide their time to rise to full strength again and harvest the Galaxy.

Then it got bad, for even as the united races of the Galaxy were preparing for deranged Reapers (more deranged than they considered them already), Earth moved inwards, protecting its colonies more fervently and making fortresses of the populated zones on every world, while on Terra Firma, The Illusive Man's party was gaining strength, urging for the retreat of humanity into its borders and for his often "humans first, aliens afterthought" agenda regarding resources, help or defense. Even if the Asari were building dreadnaughts at an alarming speed, as well as the other races, and giving them to protect most homeworlds, even as the genophage had been cured and the Krogans were multiplying, even as the Salarians were advancing technologically faster than ever, there was still a sense both of desperation and foreboding.

Once again sadly, nobody looked inside their own ranks. Shepard even now knew that without the description they lacked from the Reapers on what was about to happen and even with seeing the signs in time, it would have been probably too late, and everything would be only obvious (and believable) in retrospect, still she wished they had been more careful and more observant.

For the worst was about to happen. Subtle currents of warp energy had already engulfed the Galaxy and had started coalescing around the points of interest to its denizens: lust, rage, deceit and death. But there was only one Lord of Excess, only one who had truly, mightily, forcefully destroyed the boundries between reality and immaterium on such a scale as to let his brothers' minions in. Indeed, even rage and hate were tempered, for how would an excessive killing place birth any new entertainment? As well as death, and the Great Betrayer was just too subtle for this kind of thing.

But these Asari... Thessia... and the Lord of Excess proved to be a very bad combination. The Asari were all but Eldar in nature: long-lived, considered beautiful by all races, psychic through their own means yet unaware of their own potential, and worst of all horny, insatiable and bored. So it began, the fall of Thessia and of an old empire, slowly at first, excesses committed, hidden by the matriarchs in fear it would "send the wrong message" to the rest of the species that respected them, then worse and worse until Thessia and many worlds around them were considered worse for visiting (to those in the known) than Omega, or hell, even a Batarian colony on a bad day. The extranet was still censored for the outside species, but for Asari, the message was clear: if you're still sane, run! Run away from the Asari core worlds!

By the time the streets of Thessia ran blue with blood (and sometimes red, green and other assorted colors both on buildings and on gleeful asari), the matriarch began thinking, that maybe, there _may have been _a plague at work here. Possibly. Those on the streets preached that it was the natural evolution of their species, the culling of the weak and the Asari taking their place over the "lesser species". Still, the matriarchs said nothing, hoping it was "just a phase" (after all, "sexing like bunnies" in their youth didn't seem too strange compared to "torturing like bunnies" by their point of view, and they were their people), and although the Salarians knew, they kept it under wraps as a favor to what even they considered their superiors, dooming many Asari as consequences.

For, eventually, on a lost date in time to all but a few privileged or lucky, reality broke over Thessia, and hell spilled on the streets. Blood-soaked Asari opened their arms and yelled in ecstasy to the sky, awaiting their new-birthed (or at least summoned/released) God. And Slaanesh obliged in gorging on their souls and making Thessia his first planet of pleasure (and torment) in this Galaxy.

As the news spread to the Citadel after the psychic scream of the eaten sisters, most inhabitants were... baffled. Not even the Salarians could guess at what the hell happened. Yes, they had measured strange readings while surveying Thessia for any kind of disease, heard radio whispers that shouldn't been there, found unusual particles, but _this_... it was beyond imagination. And it couldn't be contained or hidden. So the announcement was made: Thessia and many of its core worlds had been lost in a "time-space anomaly". Even if they hoped to recover the worlds and its inhabitants, it was obvious that now, it was harder to travel through it than in an anomaly-ridden nebula. But what scared the observers most is what exactly formed in the wake of the Asari homeworld: a baleful red eye, as the eye of a demon, god or something worse, watching them with thirst and glee, welcoming them in its damned domain.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **See above.


	2. Chapter 2

Across the Galaxy, things were not better. Although cured from the genophage, the Krogans still didn't have enough members of their species to rekindle a sustainable species, at least for a few hundred years. That is, until what would be later called the Eye of Terror's birth, and with it, the voices and the appearances of Prophets along the Galaxy. Krogans had their own Prophets, who spoke of visions of the Galaxy itself drowned in a lake of red blood, sorrow and despair, ruled over by the chosen of the gods, and the strongest of them all, Khorne, the Blood God. Such was the boon of Khorne, that he was willing to give his true believers a gift that they had been dreaming since the damn genophage and that they didn't see it as enough when it was cured. Indeed, Khorne couldn't improve the "innate perfection" of the Krogan race in terms of strenght, speed or valor, but he could give them an alternate means of procreation, an insurance that if one died, hundreds would return in his or her place. Over half the Krogan population set out to the stars once more, abandoning their home world to what they called their "weaker, stagnant" brothers and went to gather skulls in Khorne's name. And when one would fall, his or her body would not decay, but would turn into spores, almost impossible to completely weed out, and in no less than a year hundreds or thousands of fully adult and battle-ready Krogans would return from the ashes of the destruction of their progenitor. So started not the Second Krogan Rebellion, or even the Second Krogan War, but the Path of Blood, for none were spared in the wake of this new crusade. Those left on Tutchanka, that considered themselves "true Krogan", immediately sought amnesty and alliances with the other powers of the Galaxy.

* * *

The Batarians weren't really interested in the fall of Thessia, they prefered to keep to themselves, and without a strong Asari centralized government, they thought their reign of power over the other species they saw useful only to raid, pillage and enslave would rise considerably. They were a steadfast race in their own way, and saw this opportunity to bully themselves into galactic dominance. But the laughter of thirsting gods had other plans, especially the Great Experimenter, possibly greater and definitely older than the Changer of Ways in that title. And so, shortly after the birth of the Eye of Terror, a plague like no other stuck the Batarian territories, and mostly just them. It eluded scientists for a long time how a disease that could infect and transform anyone, anywhere, would almost _choose_ to stay confined in the borders of an Empire. The symptoms were bad, obviously, but the effects were the worst. _Especially_ after the victims died. Why? Because _they returned_, still sickly, still transmitters of diseases and _smiling, laughing, happy_. They just wanted to give their _gifts_ to anyone not _blessed_ by the "beautiful disease" with all the glee of happy children. And so the plague spread, stopping (relatively) at the Batarian border. Truly, to see spaceports walled off from gibbering, decaying, _extatic_ Batarians was a sights to loosen the bowels of anyone watching.

* * *

On the Salarian homeworld, the changes were much more subtle and the battle much more cloak and dagger, for the infiltration of even the Changer of Ways did not fall unnoticed, and although the observers didn't know exactly what they were up against, something became more and more clear: a foreign power was trying to insinuate itself in their midst and take over. A few Salarians talking to themselves was nothing new, but displaying similar symptoms all across known space, and talking to apparently the same (kind of) creature and receiving "gifts" that were similar in the way they were received, if not in form and function, was enough to alert the authorities and to have them push either the capture or extermination of these rogue elements... and the taking of their secrets for the betterment of Salarian society, hopefully without the insidious whispers and changing of minds that came with it.

Covert assassinations were carried out, each harder than the last, as with the growing of time, so did the skills of the traitors grew to such a large degree that it could be called prescience. So did their abilities and mutations grew, from the easily-explained clawed arms to the harder-to-explain of firing lightning - _or lasers - _out of obvious completely organic hands (which by this time were literally growing more and more of, along with eyes and other organs best left undescribed or which defied description). Leaks in security sometimes happened, showing the Galaxy at large improbable sighs as giant Salarians (or merely sacks of meat) stumping around cities, being downed by anti-air missiles, _flying _Salarians _breathing fire_ on their enemies and other sights best described as belonging to fantasy novel territory.

Eventually, the traitors were driven off the Salarian worlds, but as always, it was probably Just as Planned. They fled to the Eye of Terror in search of ways to embetter themselves, and are known to return with the other horrors that would soon spill from it.

* * *

Back on Earth, it could have been easily said that it was probably in one of the _best _situation in the Galaxy. With Earth and the human worlds fortifying their settlements fearing the return of the Collectors or Reapers, Thessia swallowed whole by the anomaly, and the strongest alien empires crumbling around them (the Turians had taken upon themselves to deal with the wild Krogans), Earth was becoming one of the safest places in the Galaxy, ironically barely followed by the Turian homeworld and the Terminus system, which were hit the least by the machinations of Chaos. Humans and aliens alike from all over the Galaxy were asking asylum on human worlds, foremost being the surviving Asari from the birth of the Eye of Terror, who described unspeakable horrors committed there and against their sisters and kin. Most human worlds had to adapt and to specialize, to their cragin. Some worlds would become what would later be described as Hive Worlds, while others barred all but the minimum of required citizens to cultivate the land, and thus became Agri Worlds. It was agreed with the Turian government that the Turians would take the mantle and burden of Galactic protectors and designate most of their worlds as Fortress Worlds, spanning both great literal fortresses and great factories of war machines not ever seen in the Galaxy, only keeping a few worlds as their own back-up Agri Worlds, following the Humans' logic.

Thus, with the loss in credibility, the Asari were silently pushed from the Council, nobody really having the strength to argue the point, more intent on rebuilding their lives on other species' world. A new de-facto council was formed in those times, between Turians, Salarians and Humans. Though not a Council in the formal and former sense, the leaders of the three races were the de-facto politics making. Now, suddenly, Humanity having so many (unaffected) worlds stopped being a problem or a shame and became an asset.

But the Earth was going through its own turmoil and pressure, as the refugees were piling up, the worlds even devastated by the Collectors were now returning in full force, and the System Alliance government having to make some hard decisions. It is no surprise then, that The Illusive Man's Terra Firma party won the elections, and, in a debate not seen coming and hard to repudiate, had proposed a sort of Martial Law and an Imperium of the Six Months, though stretching indefinitely until the crisis was seen as resolves, as in ancient Roman times. There were outcries, of course, and who could be chosen to be impartial to humanity's interests without alienating them from the few, if not decent, at least useful alien races that could rebuild the Galaxy alongside them?

And so, Shepard had been recalled to Earth to be briefed on a mission of utmost importance for the planet's defenses. And so she walked into a trap that she would not really regret, but often ponder in her long years.

Between the appearance of the anomaly and her recalling on Earth, Shepard had felt she changed. Maybe it was the damn Prothean artifact, maybe it was the damn Cerberus making her a synthetic biotic. Maybe it was the small matter that she was brought back from the dead. Whatever it was, with all these factors fighting inside her, both physically and psychically (how do you reconcile yourself as being dead and being alive again?) and the psychic scream of billions of biotics, something had to snap. And in the weird way the warp has to call "evolution", it did, amazingly, for the good of the Galaxy, or what was left of it. Maybe it was because she had already died once that the warp decided that she need not decay or die ever again. Maybe it was because of the psychic beacon of the Protheans (and her liberal number of previous mild melds) that made her if not one of the first, true psychics of the Galaxy, then one of the best. Maybe it was some of the loose code of Reaper indoctrination Sovereign left in her head and that of the Illusive Man (for the good of all life in the Galaxy, of course!). Or maybe, just maybe, it was the actions of an old, withered husk of a being, crying out in the void for what felt as an eternity and what his followers would think that it was only 10 millennia, that pitied this Galaxy and its inhabitants, human and xeno alike, that he spared a small piece of his soul, a small shard or just of his attention, to give them a fighting chance.

Whatever the reason, Shepard's entire mind had changed. She could hear things, whispers in the back of her mind of people long gone or who were soon to be born or who were definitely not people. And those were just the whispers, for she could clearly, distinctly, ever second of her life from then on, hear the thoughts of all her crew as clear as crystal, and in time, expanding to hear the thoughts of living beings in a greater and greater radius, until even the whispers of not-dead and shouldn't-exist-s became more clear, more attentive. And, amazingly, she could do this while keeping sane.

She had visited the ship's doctor, told her all her dirty secrets that she hadn't said out loud in either her waking life nor her sleep, to convince her she was actually hearing what shouldn't be heard. But being on a Cerberus ship, the good doctor had not much to tell her except to keep sane, and that she was glad she kept it all together. There was really no precedent with it, unless you counted the Asari's "dark" kin, and even then, no cure had been found, not even a way to alleviate the tension. It was all about the will, she told her, if Shepard willed herself to stay sane and on a true course, she would, otherwise... well, neither liked to think of the alternative.

On her arrival to Earth, Shepard had been called to Parliament, where a vote was taking place. She was at first worried about the Terra Firma party winning and basically "taking over the (human) world", but she had to admit, even in the background and in the spotlight, they had done right to humanity... and weren't too bad with the aliens either. It was live and let live, sure, the laws had become somewhat harsher for alien offenders, and exile was truly the worst thing they could do to them in these times of strife and uncertainty, but the government hadn't turned out to be completely xenophobic. Not yet anyway.

With these thoughts in mind, Shepard let herself be presented to the Presidium, where she heard the declaration, ringing in her ears eight thousand years later like she was back there right now.

"By a majority vote, we declare the System Alliance null and void, to be replaced by the new form of ruling, the Imperium of Man. As the name implies, and under the voted law, we declare Commander Shepard as _Empress Shepard of the Imperium of Man_, to have complete control and authority over all worlds controlled by Man. May she lead us out of these dark times as she has so many times before. Long live the Empress!"

"Long live the Empress! LONG LIVE THE EMPRESS!" Echoed through the building and on all human worlds, to the flabbergasted looks of Shepard and most aliens privvy watching this human declaration. Behind her stood the ashen forms of Anderson and Hackett, and in the shadows, a smile that had not adorned the face of a smoking man[1], seeming alien on his human visage was elongating more and more next to his glittering eyes.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just for the record, even if I called this a fusion fic, it's NOT going to result in the canon Warhammer 40000 world, but an amalgamation of the two. This Imperium of Man _will_ allow xenos, mutants and witches into its ranks, they'll just be second-rate citizens. And _then_ they'll meet the our lovable canon Imperium and other abominations, and sparks will fly.

[1] No X-Files characters here, sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

"What the hell did just happen?" Was all that Shepard could ask after she left the prying eyes of all but Anderson and Hackett.

"We're... not really sure ourselves." Answered Hackett, shaken.

"You knew this was going to happen when you called me?"

"Not exactly. Not like this." Hackett replied. "We knew they were voting for a _temporary_ Imperium and we strongly believed the "elected" Emperor would be The Illusive Man, finally leaving his shadows to take up rulership of humanity, like in one of his bad propaganda flicks. We called you here to be a... deterrent of sorts, or balance. We were going to propose you'd be some Minister of Defense or some such. We don't need a civil war, but we don't need to be weeded out in the shadows either. Us more... tolerant of alien species and coexistence, like we believe you are too, didn't want some crazy extremist being named _Emperor _of an _Empire._ Imagine our surprise... that the guy would throw it in your lap, just like that." He took a break to let that sink in. "You realise... you have to stay, right? If you decline, someone else, very likely _someone worse_, will take that... throne and bring us to ruin."

Shepard pondered for a moment. Yes, she couldn't let TIM take a goddamn human _throne_, but still... a thought came to mind. "What about my Spectre status? What about my duties to the Council?"

Hackett snorted. "What Council? Everything's in disarray with the aliens, as much as I hate to dislike them, I'm starting to. It's not just Thessia that's been hit. Didn't you keep up with the news? Well, if you say yes, and I strongly suggest you do, you can request any sensitive information you want, stuff that goes even beyond our heads. In the position these people made for you, anything any human will know, you _will _know, or you can give the order to basically interrogate, torture or kill anyone who doesn't comply on charges of high treason."

There was quiet for a few moments, until Anderson spoke up. "Speaking of... Shepard. You and us... we're good, right? I'd like us to be allies, to watch our backs here. If it wasn't before, now it's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and people, even aliens, that you can implicitly trust are worth more than their weight in gold. What we had before was a golden era, as loathe to admit it as would be any non-Asari, Turian or Salarian. Rest of us didn't like 'em, but they kept the damn Galaxy stable, even with their... flaws. Truth is, we need you to keep our backs and we'll keep yours. A position doesn't make you invulnerable, you need loyalties. And... please don't let it go to your head. I hope at least we taught you better than that."

Shepard's guts felt... wrong somehow. These people that she had respected, had taken orders from, that had kept humanity safe for decades, were suddenly both afraid and in awe of her. Both subtly threatening her and pleading with her... to what? To help them? Their side? Humanity? To _keep them alive?_ Damn, she hated politics.

"Yeah... sure..." she said, more or less shell-shocked, and left in an almost robotic matter. Only later did she realize she didn't know where to go and accessed her omni-tool. To her surprise, what she found was a copy of EDI integrated in it, telling her of the new accommodations built mostly for her. She didn't really get it and just walked out of the building, took a cab... and saw something that both amazed her and terrified her, for such a thing should not exist on the Earth that she knew. A giant cathedral-like palace was built where the slums were, _where she grew up_. Someone seemed to have had a twisted sense of humor, that or really wanted to endeer themselves to her. At this point, she wasn't sure if they'd succeed or not. She decided to ask the cabbie then.

"Hey, buddy, I haven't been around for a while, what's with that thing?"

"Oh, you mean the Imperial Palace? They started building since Terra Firma got to power, big-ass waste of money if you ask me, but it's imposing and makes aliens crap their pants when they see it, I'll give 'em that. They just finished it recently, or so they say, just before they announced that Queen or whatever. On the other hand, they gave good people good pay to build it. Damn, the stories I hear... secret rooms, everything made of marble, _gold, rubies_, all that shit thrown liberally around. Thing's big enough to house an army or something."

"What about the people who used to live there?" Shepard asked, her gut wretching at the thought of what extremists would have done with those poor people.

"Oh, they're the lucky ones, I say. They got the choice to actually _work and live_ there. I hear they even get trained, tested for what they're best at, "recycled" if you want but in a good way. I hear the staff's mostly made of those people, a few other homeless aliens were brought there for... God knows what, but they didn't say 'nything 'bout screamin', so it's probably for working there. Lots of Asari refugees too, dunno what they do to them. Still, nobody's complained, and the atmosphere... how to say it... you know, it's not stiff, it's not fear-ridden and such. It's like they're all friends and working for something better than them. Sometimes it looks awesome, sometimes it's more creepy than they'd actually been brainwashed.[1] Still, they could have at least taken professionals, but who am I to know these things, right lass?"

"What about... those who refused this... enrollment?"

"Oh, they bought a lot of property around, built giant-ass apartments, tall as hell and _fortified_, I hear. They gave all who didn't want to work there homes, and had spare for others to move in. They spared no expense, I tell you that. No aliens allowed to permanently stay there though, though some rent and others "work"... in-house, if you get my... blue meaning." He said with a wink. "Still, if you're a bleedin' heart for those outies[2], don't be, they gave 'em homes too, just on the other side of the world. They're mopping up aliens that they don't know from around the palace and the Representative buildings, I hear. I don't think they chuck them in the ocean or out of a plane though, or throw 'em in mines[3], there'd be too many complaints and the ambassadors haven't made any ruckus about these, whatchamacallit, dislocations?"

"Relocation." Mumbled Shepard absentmindedly. By this time, they were in the parking lot and even from the air... it was _enormous_ and beautiful at the same time. An Asari of all people came to ask who the visitor was, but was stopped in her tracks when she saw Shepard. She quickly composed herself, bowed, then went to take her hand as to help her get out of the car.

"Your Majesty." She said meekly, with a soft, real smile on her lips. She was dressed very well, in a white silk dress that did not impede her movement, yet showed off her assets, as her dark blue skin contrasted with the pure white of the _gold-embroided_ dress.

Shepard looked at the cabbie, scratching her head, and decided to just "declare": "Sorry, buddy, it's a long story."

The cabbie looked for a second at her armored form, then gave her a kind smile. "Hey, I get to say I took on royalty. If you'll let me, of course." He said the last line through chuckles.

"Sure, buddy. Thanks for the lift. How much do I owe you?"

Before he could answer, either to overtax, be so fair that'd bring awkwardness, or say it was on the house, the Asari answered with the same kind smile. "You'll be compensated once I have seen the Lady to her quarters."

The cabbie just continued smiling and answered. "No problem, missie, glad to have been o' help." And he went on his way away from the Imperial Palace with a great story to tell his grandkids (when he'd have them).

Though her eyes were taken by the sights, murals, statues (many of her and _some_ of some shady guy eclipsed by a dying star... really? Who could _that_ be? She snorted to herself) and staff, that seemed to consist mainly of humans, as well as Asari dressed in, although definitely not cheap, but skimpy clothing, and even some Turians, Batarians and even Krogans doing some menial tasks (with great ardour, she might add, even before she had arrived), she finally noticed a "fashion accessory" on all their necks. It was greyish as to fit in, and it looked more like a chocker than a biotic collar to the unused eye, but she had seen enough in her life to know these were indeed some kinds of collars. So she asked her Asari host - servant? - what was that about.

"Are those biotic supressers you're wearing around your neck?"

The Asari didn't stop her stride in the slightest, but she started fidgeting mid-walk. "No... well, yes... well, not really. It's complicated, you see... all of us have to wear them if we want to work here, especially the aliens. You don't know how awful we lived before they built this... behemoth. They offered us jobs, we knew they were considered extremists and xenophobes by your people, but we were too afraid to say no.[3] And it's a great place to live and work, really it is. And this isn't a supressant... per se. Well, it is, but not _automatically. _It's keyed in to the omnitool of... well, they didn't tell us who... "high ranking officials" they said. _Those_ can supress our biotics, at a whim, but we don't really use them around here anyway. They can do... other unsavory things too. I never saw it used that way, or felt it on myself, but we were warned to behave or they'd... discharge, whatever that means, it doesn't sound good anyway."

By the time she had finished babbling, the Asari had led her to a giant of a room, enough to encompass an entire floor of a skyscraper, where everything seemed to be built for her every whim in lavishment and beauty, some of it she had revealed she'd have liked here and there, but never imagined it'd actually become reality. In truth, it did not encompass _entirely_ all her dreams and wishes, which slightly reassured her. _At least those bastards aren't reading my mind, but they sure know who and how to ask questions._

And so Empress Shepard firmly entered her new life.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I'm aware I may have fleshed this out more than was necessary, but inspiration came to me and I felt a little description of the situation in which Shepard got herself into wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Then I had to explain why TIM would hire aliens, and what control method he'd use. TIM's a very manipulative and controlling individual after all, and wants to make sure all his employees are well... motivated, both in terms of carrots and sticks. If you haven't figured it out yet, you will find out that the reason he put Shepard in this position is that he now knows (from the talks with Chakwas) she's his long-sought after Ubermench to lead humanity on an even, or above footing over the aliens in the Galaxy. Some (anti-Chaos) Reaper indoctrination doesn't hurt either.

[1] No, no Reaper influence.

[2] Outer space - aliens.

[3] No concentration camps or genocides, I swear.


	4. Chapter 4

Empress Shepard had been looking through the important news about the Galaxy's development since the Eye's emergence, and it wasn't good. At least Cerberus/human operatives were good in gathering information fast and delivering it to EDI faster, an important and now (unbound AI) citizen of Humanity, designated one of Shepard's closest assistants. So she read about the Krogan uprisings and massacres, of the plague spreading on the Batarian territories and the Salarian... weirdness. Separately, all these events could be dismissed as isolated incidents, but together they formed a pattern, one that not even Shepard in her changed form could grasp the meaning of, at least not yet. The picture was far from clear, but one thing was certain: the Galaxy was _somehow_, by _someone_, under attack. She'd have blamed the Reapers if one of their hadn't come to their doorstep, _warning them of something like this_. Still, she believed either they knew what would happen and decided to keep it to themselves for their own reason, or mostly likely didn't, though you never knew with the Reapers. Something in the back of her head connected the dots though: _lust, rage, decay, deceit_. Again, most of the events could have been explained away as the randomness of the universe. Only one thing really stuck out: the situation on the Salarian's world. Biotics, anomalies, evolved Krogan (red fungus? Really?), (intelligent) disease... and even the Salarian situation could be explained. Up to a certain point. The others were mostly mindless actions, but whatever possessed and controlled the Salarians was like nothing the Galaxy had ever seen or even imagined. Things that defied logic, physics and biotics. _Flying_ creatures with no apparent means, _throwing lighting, fire, ice and anything in between __**from their bare hands**_. Mutation sprouting around them, until they either turned into gibbering monsters or... Shepard didn't want to think of the alternative. It didn't help that in the wake of the destruction the traitors had left, particles _identical_ to those spewed out by the Eye could be detected. There was the real fear that this was the prelude to the birth to another Eye of Terror centered on the Salarian territories, so the Salarians had taken _extreme _measures against all those that used those abilities without supervision and decontamination of the scene. Already, human operatives had given her notes about secret research facilities employed by the Salarians outside Council Space to safely research these powers and abilities. Many would be upset by this, but Shepard partly understood: know thy enemy.

And there was one more thing tying everything together: the so-called Prophets, Seers and other religious nutcases popping up around the Galaxy, telling of the arrival of the Gods. Gibbering Salarians muttering about the Changer of Ways, or sometimes, Lord of Deceit and Architect of Fate. Krogans about Khorne, the God of Blood and Rage. Batarians about the Lord of Decay, Papa Nurgle. And from the until recently hidden Salarian archives, there were theories that said the Asari basically "called" this Eye of Terror into existence by their psychic might mingled in overstimulating the pleasure/pain centers of their bodies and mind, and lust. _Lust, decay, rage, deceit_. Yes, a pattern was forming. Something was behind this. Something, some horror, some _intelligence_ that steered their Galaxy to ruin. _Ruinous powers_ had a ring to it in her mind. A vile, awful ring, but a ring none-the-less. _Why_ anyone would want to do this was beyond her, unless to conquer the Galaxy... somehow. But they hadn't even shown their faces, how-

She backtracked to recent news from the Eye of Terror. Those who went in didn't return or returned... changed. Them and their ships. Gibbering madmen most of them, only a few having some sort of natural immunity and surviving. _Defense mechanism_? She wondered. If they couldn't enter the damned thing, if it _was_ a time-space anomaly... a portal... would things eventually _get out of it?_

That was a sobering and frightful thought, and there was not much that they could do about it, not without Geth and Reaper help - God help her, when had they became allies against a _greater threat?_ She was tempted to think Greater Evil, but in a Galaxy of individuals and free choice, she didn't much believe in the concept of evil, only _threat_, and at worse, _wrong _- and the Reapers were fighting their own people, while the Geth and Collecters cordoned Council space in case the _wrong_ side of Old Machines was victorious. Still, knowledge was power, and at least she knew now more than at the beginning of the crisis. How she'd use this information would show itself in time, she hoped.

Though growing tired, she turned to the problems that she could adress. That she had to adress or find a way to address. Foremost was the status of the Asari. Humanity actually had few and far between problems since the Collectors had left them alone, and the Terra Party had actually done some good by retiring as many ships as their contract with the Citadel Council allowed to their own space, and fortifying their colonies. In another stroke of luck (or calculated by someone? Did the Illusive Man know more about this? Unlikely, Shepard had received all the theories from across the Galaxy and the human think tanks about what was going on, and nobody could predict the fall of Thessia... well, they did, actually, but not to a _fissure in space-time_), the Destiny Ascendant and a few other Dreadnaughts, as well as other smaller Asari vessels had been sent to the human worlds ostensibly to "protect" them, in fact to keep tabs on the human military under the new regime, some time before the fall of Thessia, and were now more or less under Council control... but practically still stationed around human worlds, which had quickly become refugee worlds for the Asari. This lead to an unspoken understanding: you keep our people alive and we'll blow any threat against both our peoples out of the sky. Very convenient for humanity indeed.

But it was actually worse for the Asari. Them and their damn democracy and free-speaking, Shepard rubbed her forehead in annoyance. Those that escaped the last months of terror from Thessia and the surrounding territories told tales in _gory details_ to each other and their mates. Eventually, obviously, it leaked into the galactic news, and now most Asari were looked at with distrust and fear, that would soon turn to hate and rage if left unchecked. Shepard disliked their hypocrisy enormously: the Asari had been all but kind "rulers" of the Galaxy, giving from their plentitude and asking only acceptance in return. True, that acceptance would lead the individual to power, prosperity and respect over the Galactic stage, and would quench their biological imperative to multiply, but they did it in the best way any race could ask. They were even kind enough to let other races to make decisions _alongside them_, and had brought the Salarians and Turians, trusting them. Maybe too much. And when the Turians attacked humanity, who risked their lives to negotiate peace? Who payed debts they didn't have except through misguided trust? The Asari. And now, after they had lost their homes most likely to some unknowable abominations, how did the races repay them? By spitting on them and readying their pitchforks and torches to linch them.

No, Shepard did not like this at all. She felt she, and humanity, had an obligation to this race. Something had to be done. If it were not for this irrational fear of them, they could rebuild along humans and other races without her intervention, but now?... More drastic measures had to be taken.

Just then, her mind moved to one particular document she had read a few days earlier. What she had then considered to encompass useless, disgusting and even horrofying, now could be a solution to many of their problems, and even to some of the Galaxy's problems in general. The sickening birth of a species-centered Imperium of Man, along with that infuriating document, could prove a very useful tool in the right hands, handled _just the right way_. Yes, it could make things worse, and at the time, she had ignored it as one more Cerberus human supremacist acts. But now...

She asked EDI to pull it up for her. EDI obliged, happy in her own semi-conscious way that the Terra Firma party had surprisingly declared AIs as citizens with their own rights. Shepard had briefly wondered if this was more to appease her, to piss off the AI hating Galaxy or to make it fear the Imperium even more, maybe even give the aliens an excuse to start a war TIM had been itching for. Or maybe they had been the first nation to declare the AI citizens to be on the good side of the geth if they were ever forced to truly rely on them. In the end, she dismissed this for now, concentrating on her "duties" and what she could do from the position she had been catapulted into.

Shepard carefully read this proposed act again, this time with a clinical eye and not with the disdain plainly plastered on her features days before.

_Generic information: Proposal classification of meta-humans in regards to recent effects made on humanity by anomaly colloquially known as the "Eye of Terror":_

* _**Mutants**_**: **_general classification to all human-based lifeforms that have undergone unstable mutations upon their most holy forms as decreed by God, the morality of humanity and the Imperium. Mutations range from almost unseable deformation of skin, bone structure, to obvious redundant and extra organs, such as eyes, ears, noses and other extremities or even organs in places that shouldn't be on the human body._

_** Notes: also suggest attempt at isolating and replicating some of these mutations in order to create better families of _abhumans _(see below)._

_* __**Abhumans: **__Members of humanity that have stable, replicated, replicable and predictable mutations in such a number of members as to be distinguish from "random" mutants._

_** Notes: Those presenting abhuman traits should be put in positions in which their predictable mutations can be useful to mankind._

_** **Special note: **Abhuman titles should **NOT** be given to any alien species that bears similarities to humans. Abhumans are a branch of humans that evolve in different niches that can't and shouldn't merely be called "mutants", as random mutations are... well, too random. I can not emphasize how wrong it would be for the future of humanity and its holy purity if this were taken out of context and applied to other lifeforms that happen to share similarities to us, but who have evolved on entirely different planets and ecosystems, with mentalities completely alien to us._

_* __**Psychers**__: There is a small, but growing number of humans that seem to have evolved mentally in ways completely different to any known psychic race, such as the Asari._

_Other notes: We are uncertain how to classify biotics, though we are considering adding them as the honorary, first family of abhumans ever discovered. They fit this criteria, as it can be considered the first observed stable mutation to the human form, at least in recent times. Further merging of abilities: biotics with psychic abilities and random mutations, or biotics that can be classified in another branch of abhumans, have not been found so far, however such a find, with the proper guidance, could prove invaluable tools and weapons for humanity's future in the face of an uncaring and often hostile universe._

_Read the entire body of the document for details._

Shepard stopped reading, the same knot stuck in her throat as it had when she had first read it. At first, she hadn't known what to do with it, as it had been forwarded to her and marked as high priority from the Imperium's "archivists". At the time, she didn't know how to bury it deep enough so nobody would ever see it in a thousand years, or even think of using it, and how to dismantle the science division that had come up to it fast enough. She saw the underlining tone of "superiority" of the "normal" human race in comparison to what they dubbed "meta-humans", and stank as eugenics to boot. She remembered how unfairly biotics had been treated by humanity at their appearance, she remembered Jack and other poor experiments of Cerberus, and saw this document as legalizing the repeat of that situation.

However, now she had a decision to make. She could either bury this document and find another way to help the Asari, or... use it for the benefit of both her race and its former helpers. All she needed to do was remove one small, insignificant, underlined "special note" and she could throw this document to the public. A mischievous grin appeared on her face, as she thought of the reaction of The Illusive Man, as well as the racist that made this document at her future declaration. A part of her also knew that such classifications would happen sooner or later, and considering Cerberus was technically ruling all of humanity, an agent who would put those ideas in an even less favorable manner than this document would appear, and then another, and another... No, she could barely bury this even if she tried. She had to act, and so she would.

EDI's voice brought her out of her thoughts, announcing the return of Sovereign. She rushed to the Palace's balcony, observing _it_ and other Reaper dreadnaughts lowering in orbit closer and closer to her. They looked battered, but not beaten, in need of repairs yet already in repairs. They were five of them, though she didn't bother to think if they had a name. Sovereign apparently gave the others the signal to remain in position, while he edged closer. There was a burst of something between static and shriek coming from EDI's hologram, after which she lowered her head, and after she raised it back, red orbs could be seen in place of her eyes.

"**Commander Shepard, we bring news."** _It_ replied through her, for certainly EDI was no longer in that virtual body, at least for now.

**"Unit designated Harbringer has taken the leadership of the corrupted Reapers and attempted to destroy all samples, information and history regarding previous harvested species. We have managed to retain copies of them, and have taken as much of the Reaper consciousness/personalities as possible before crippling them and returning to your home world."** It seemed to pause, as of uncertain on how to add the next thing it was about to say. **"I have calculated that you are the only one able to stop the cycle, as programmed into us to find by our creators. In optimal circumstances, you would have been tested and would have a choice to make, however, as the Great Corruption spreads, I find myself forced to make that decision for you. As of this moment, the uncorrupted mechanical creations designated by this cyclr's races as "Reapers" are under your direct orders. We will protect your body and mind from decay and attacks from the corrupted to the best of our abilities. We request tools and workers to repair our host to be at best efficiency against any and all confrontations against the corrupted and your enemies."**

If she had thought being appointed Empress was jaw-breaking, this one took the cake. She couldn't help to feel both the awe and fear of the Reapers practically _kneeling_ to her as humanity had done a few days before.

"Um... yeah, ok. Permission granted. And keep in touch with EDI, improve her programming if you can or if you have to, she's a citizen of Earth now and the liason between me and the data in the outside world."

**"Very well. If that is all then, connection terminated."** It said and EDI seemed to regain her posture, although her virtual face and posture, if she were to be human, would have denoting her as paling and trembling. Shepard wasn't sure if she was projecting on EDI human emotions, but she couldn't blame her if being possessed by a million-years old machine had left her a bit shaken.

Composing herself, Shepard addressed the AI. "EDI, relay Sovereign's request to orbit. Speaking of which, tell our Reaper... friends to stay in orbit until further notice and not to enter atmosphere until we request it from them. And I know what our forces will think, that they need to have enough dreadnaughts to counter these things, tell them not to bother and to help in the Krogan war and the isolation of Batarian space and the Eye's influences from our borders. About now, that's more important for everyone's sake." She took a breath. "And hold all my calls. I have a declaration to prepare."

With that, she returned to her desk and started writing, with EDI's help, what would be the most important declaration since the discovery of the existence of the Reapers.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for short chapter, but it's been two weeks and I wanted to give you guys something to chew on. I wanted to incorporate the speech in this chapter as well, but I'll see what else can I get you next time. Maybe TIM's actions and definitely reactions. I'm grateful for such good reactions and will continue this fic to the best of my ability. Hope you continue to enjoy it.

Hey, if I _had_ to wipe out most of the Asari, it doesn't mean I wanted to bash them. And they might as well be useful to the fledgling Imperium. To be fair, assigning Council races to Gods was very easy to me, it's almost like they were tailor-made for corruption from Chaos. I had to keep the Turians more level-headed, because from this point on Chaos can only grow, the races can only wither, and the whole (or even half) of Turian might arrayed against the Galaxy would be something I wouldn't know how to throw a save into. Don't worry, Humans, Turians and other races are also affected here and there, but not as bad as in the wh40k universe. That's why, incidentally, demons haven't started spewing out of the Eye of Terror yet, they still don't have much power in the Universe. But as always, they're expanding.

And if you think I left off the Turians off the hook, you're mistaken. Think of them as Iron Warriors: yes, they're _good _and _proud_ of their abilities in war, but it doesn't mean their whole life revolved around it. Now they're still suffering from the backlash with the Relay 134 incident and they're the only true force inclined to face the Krogan menace and anything else that spills from the Eye of Terror, while humanity seals itself in and lives relatively comfortable and safe lives.

Next time: Empress' speech.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thought of the day: Ignorance does not save the faithful from death by giant ancient corrupted squid sentient robots. _[1]

* * *

Though it was only a day since the appearance of the Reapers in Earth's orbit and their subsequent plunging towards the Imperial Palace, and out into orbit again, although in their battered state, left the Galaxy in a turmoil, but none worse than Earth itself. While some, thinking the line of Terra Firma had gone straight out of control, had left in a panic, others, fanatics, destitute, hopeful, dreamers and all kinds of people, as well as aliens, were flocking _towards_ "Holy Terra" as it was more and more often referred to, seeing it as the safest place in the Galaxy now that the Reapers had talked to the "locals" and taken orbit around the planet, many considering that they did so in order to protect the Sol System.

At noon that day, the Empress had been scheduled for her first and formal declaration, and everyone waited with shallow breath to hear what she had to say. The Imperial Palace's soundings were crowded, many come to witness their Empress' views and decrees. It had a religious undertone to it, and people flocked in greater numbers than the greatest reported on Vatican, which incidentally was also the greatest physical assembly recoded in the Galaxy.

Humans, aliens, nobody cared of the origins of those next to them, many aliens having recently both applied and successfully been granted Earth citizenship, despite knowing that laws and maybe even life would be harsher for them. Most of them wanted to help in any way the Savior of the Galaxy, the Chosen of the Old Machines, and more importantly, to be on the world she had been (made to) vowed to protect, thus hoping if worst came to worst, them and their families would survive any (other) coming cataclysms.

The Empress arrived on time in her white and gold-embroidered dress, making her look like either a Godess or at least a bridge of a God (or a Godess, if you asked the Asari). Cheers, applause and frantic yells of joy greeted her, which took over five minutes to die down when they saw she was patiently awaiting them to quiet down before she started her speech.

"My subjects. People of Earth and of the Galaxy", she started, gaining hopeful reactions from the aliens watching the speech live, happy to be included in the opening talks of the ruler of this continuing expanding Empire. If they only knew just how much. "I come before you in my first discourse in the public eye since I was elected Empress of the Imperium of Man. Many have undoubtedly considered I have waited far too long for this, especially concerning very recent events, and that my seclusion in the Imperial Palace does not benefit you." She paused. "I assure you it does. I have not been standing idly, I have taken all the information I could and tried to make the best of it." Another pause.

"As many of you probably know, a few days ago, a fleet of sentient mechanical beings known as the Old Machines appeared in the orbit around Earth and pledge allegiance to me, and explicitly, humanity." She did not expand on the fact that if she were to decide on ordering them to leave towards deep space or in another galaxy, they would follow without question and without care of what would happen to what they'd leave behind. "Much has been discussed and speculated about what else has been communicated between our two species." Between me and Sovereign, that is. "As such, I am here to give you some monumental news that has been disclosed to me." What would you like first? The good news or the bad news? Oh well, better end with the good news. Well, depends on your definition of good, but most will hopefully accept it. This isn't a democracy anymore, thank you very much and by no fault of my own.

"I will not lie to you. At first, I was afraid of the coalition between the Collectors, the Geth and the Old Machines and of their relation to our missing colonists and their designs for this Galaxy. I am still uncomfortable about this, but I was assured that aggression against our peoples have ceased. As the past repeats, our former enemies have become once again our staunch allies. This is reason for concern for us however. To be blunt, there's something out there that has million-years old sentient machines that have absolute control over the Mass Relays _running scared._" She waited a few seconds to let that thought sink in.

"We don't know much of it. Whatever it is, it has managed to have half that species attempt to destroy all life in the Galaxy." Well, that was a half-truth. _Both_ factions had wanted at one time to destroy all life in the Galaxy, but it wouldn't make good PR with their new allies to just say so. "But that's not the worst of it." People blinked. _It's worse?_ "I have evidence", well, guesswork, psychic yells and whispers and probably failed attempt at indoctrination, but hey, that works as evidence too, right? "that these same beings that have attacked and divided the" no, not Reapers, must not call them Reapers "Old Machines is also responsible for the appearance of the Eye of Terror." There were murmurs of disbelief. These things could not only turn half a species against itself, but _rip open time-space?_ That was bad. That was very bad. If Commander Shepard, or Spectre Shepard would have claimed this, she'd be sent to the madhouse. Empress Shepard's words however held weight, at least as a political leverage. Plus she had immunity and bodyguards fit for a ruler of a species. There was no silencing or dismissing her now.

"And there is more. Many unrelated incident, many instances we thought were isolated cases, seem to be the work of the same being, or same conglomerate of beings. The Batarian Plague. The Krogan... mutation. And other, less known events throughout the Galaxy trying to undermine millennia of progress." At the last line, she thought of the Salarians and how they had covered up their own fight with this new enemy. "I believe all of these are concentrated efforts to undermine the galactic community, to bring it into ruin. I do not yet know why, but we have to stop it. Together. If people think hunkering down and locking borders in space that we cannot realistically do will protect humanity, they are wrong. Humanity has been until now lucky it did not exhibit specific traits that these creatures seem to be attracted to, but they will in time. They already mutate our bodies and minds and try to undermine our progress as they have done to the other races of the Galaxy. In relation to this, I urge you not to listen to the rantings of mad men regarding these events, and to report to your local security system anyone who preaches that all that has happened it good or beneficial for the progress of our Galaxy. They are lies, spun around by enemies we cannot yet see and grasp. I urge you not to proliferate these lies, and to stop whatever enemy is coming for us from getting more of a foothold than it already has."

There was silence for a few seconds, then clapping, then cheers, then yells of support. It lasted for minutes before it let up.

"I... thank you." Said Shepard, honestly choked up by the attention and trust she had been given, and for finally being believed by so many people. "Thank you for listening to me, for supporting me and for believing in me. You have no idea how much it means to me." The cheering erupted again, and it took more time for matters to calm down, though Shepard waited patiently.

"With the bad news out of the way, I also have some startling information relayed" no pun intended "by Sovereign, the representative of the Old Machines. I know it will be hard to grasp, but please, believe me it's the truth. These conclusions have been checked by some of our best scientists..." that I'll inform they were in a meeting and confirmed them, hope they play ball... hell, hope Sovereign has enough insight on organics to back me up on this. "As it is known in some scientific circles, the very existence of the Asari in this form has been debated for millennia, both by the Asari themselves and the aliens they encountered. Some have speculated they have been genetically engineered by the Protheans, although to what reason is not yet known." She took a breath, then continued weaving her story to the enraptured audience. "Few have looked into the Quarian genetic code with much interest, especially since they stopped being a Council member. Those that would have looked, would have noticed that their low immune system shouldn't exist in nature, as on a more hostile planet, they'd have to either adapt or die out, neither of which they were forced to do. This leads to the conclusion that they, too, had been genetically engineered, though also for an unknown purpose." The viewers had hushed, not liking the implications of this. Has the Protheans been running around the Galaxy, treating races like their own personal lab-rats? Was this the work of the Old Machines? Of this new enemy, or of something worse, or maybe better? If the Quarians were any example of this, likely no, not better.

"I am here to tell you we had brothers in the stars, my subjects. Not merely on a cellular level, not merely of a few frozen amino-acids locked in icy comets racing to the worlds we now know sentient life, each continuing on its path in new way. No, we had genetic brothers, brothers and sisters of humanity that were almost identical to our own."

Now for the gut-punch. "One branch had a devastating war drive them off their world, now drifting through the stars while we didn't lift a hand to help them find a new world. The other are high in the galactic affairs. They have welcomed us with open arms even without knowing or believing we were related. They gave us technology. They gave us hope. They gave us a place next to the races of the Galaxy. And most of all, they gave us freedom to choose our own destiny, different than their own. Now they too are homeless, scared and desperate. Will we fail them? Either of them? When they did so much for us, will we not return the favor?"

There were hush murmurs on who _exactly_ the Empress was talking about. Some barely had put their mental gears in motion, refusing to believe such an enormity. They had to hear it themselves and directly. Did she mean what they thought she meant? The fanatics and gene-puritans paled. They saw where this was going. TIM seethed, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing he was willing to do. Nothing he was _allowed _to do, though his conscious mind refused to analyze this disturbing information his subconscious was telling him. _Trust Shepard_, a voice in the back of his head told him, one that sounded eerily like Sovereign's. _We have put our faith in Shepard, and she will lead us out of the darkness._ Jack Harper was getting a headache, so he decided not to think about it anymore and put his attention back on Shepard's words.

"From the genetic archives and advanced analyzing technology the Old Machines have given us, we have been made aware that the Quarians and Asari are genetic off-shots of humanity modified by unknown aliens for unknown purposes to be what they are today."

There was silence. There was gasping. The was fuming. There was relief. Every sentient listening to the announcement had a subtly different internal reaction to it, some controlling what they showed on the outside better than others. Surprise, incredulity, outrage, fear. Every sentient that had abused a Quarian, or more recently, an Asari as the "bringers of the Devil Eye" trembled today. For they knew what would come next. And so it did.

"As the Empress of _all_ humanity, I ask and welcome back _all _our wayward children and relatives back into the protective borders of the Imperium of Man. Let our enemies know that we are stronger together! Let our allies know they can count on us! Let this be the day that our species is once again whole, stronger, better than ever! Together!"

There was frantic cheering from the crowd, even from non-"humans", for the strength of humanity and the protection this would give them, and hopefully, the Galaxy. Quarians from the Migrant Fleet were staring, gaping. Humans were their _long lost relatives_? And the _Asari_ too? It had taken _sentient machines, the types that almost destroyed their race_ (or their offshot of their race) to reunite them and inform them? _Aliens_ had destroyed their immune system? Why? Who or why would do such a cruelty to them? Aliens had made the Asari into the sex dolls of the Galaxy? So many questions were racing through their heads, none of them even considering the possibility that the humans lied to them. After all, what was there to gain by associating with disgraced nomads that the Council shunned for centuries? The Council had eroded their sense of self-esteem so much that many considered their worth to pale compared to the Citadel races. And now they discovered they were _human_? The rising Empire with the most worlds under their banner, all protected by _Asari Dreadnaughts_?[2] And they were welcomed with open arms, just like that? When they had heard the Geth allied with machines possibly older than the Protheans, and together had claimed to become the Galaxy's protectors, despair had hit them hard. There was no longer a chance to reclaim their homeworld, that they dreamed for centuries. They had already been outcasts, now even if they tried, even if they could defeat the Geth, even if the Old Machines would let them, the Council would likely intervene and exterminate them themselves to help their new allies. But now, it was the exact opposite. The Old Machines claimed to support the Empress and humanity in all its endeavors. The Geth were technically a client race of theirs. And now the Quarians were technically _humans_, so nobody would dare harm a Quarian ever again. Even if the Old Machines and the Geth would turn against humanity, the entire Galaxy would see their traitorous ways and would exterminate this coalition of machines. Be they used as tools or eradicated, the Quarians would win over the machines either way. Truly, it was a time to celebrate.

The Asari knew better. Where the Quarians were idealistic and mechanical in nature, believing in exact sciences and less interested in social relations, the Asari had both killed each other and learned philosophy for long enough to see the ploy. If this announcement would have been made at the still height of the Asari Republics, it would have been dismissed as an upstart race's attempts to subjugate them in the most pathetic of ways, and failing miserably. They wouldn't have even admitted the evidence, even if it was scientifically and biologically sound, dismissing the source of Abominable Intelligence altogether. They had spent millennia politicking between themselves, and knew that reactions and opinions were stronger in the public eye than fact, and that controlling public opinion had stronger gains than accepting obvious truths. But even knowing that, they saw they had no recourse. From the rulers of the Galaxy, they had become pariahs, shunned, treated possibly worse than they had treated the Geth, Quarians, Krogans or the Ardat-Yakshi. The irony of it wasn't lost on many of the surviving Matriarchs. When those species were in trouble, they had turned a blind eye, condemning them to war or extinction. Now, the humans were offering a home, in their own clumsy way, claiming them as their own. It was true, humanity had to gain from both species, but however you looked at it the Asari and Quarians were getting the better deal, at least in the short run. So the majority of Asari breathed a sigh of relief, finally no longer feeling on the run like one of their Ardat-Yakshi sisters they had forsaken long ago. None even considered what the humans would do with these to their ever shameless ignorance.

"I am aware" Shepard continued "that documentation and so on will be needed for the integration of our lost fellow humans into our midst, and to that end, I would wish to bring the proposal of Doctor Hans Goberman" she gestured to a now pale-white blond individual with glassed and medium height at her right "to be voted and amended, where necessary, by the Parliament, regarding genetic differences between us and our..." she looked at him with a mischievous grin "cousins. Thank you, Doctor Hans Goberman, for having the foresight to foresee such an event and to prepare us accordingly." Of course, the good Doctor was seething, getting a copy of his document and noticing his underlined special note had been erased. _She had played him_, he raged. He had warned them, and not only did they ignore his defense for the holy human form created by God only on Earth to stand against the genetic impurity of the heathen aliens, but had used it as a blank card to _encourage _that impurity further. The only consolation he had is that she had made him famous, very likely rich, very likely a lady magnet (if the glasses and him turning colors on live broadcast, as well as twitching from many parts of his body was not _overtly _noticed) and hopefully get the chance for future study on the anomalies of the human genome.

After Empress Shepard took her time in presenting Doctor Goberman's document to the public and officiating it, at least in this form, she had bowed once again and left the Galaxy to contemplate the latest news.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

[1] It sounded better in my head. It'll have to do for now.

[2] I'm putting so much emphasis on the Asari's military might, especially making Dreadnaughts, because as far as the current circumstances, that's what anyone would still see the Asari as useful for. The rest of the Galaxy has an at least basic understanding that they failed at the philosophical aspect of their species, what with summoning a Chaos God in their sector of space. And yes, many citizens know of this because the Asari basically blabbed about it, as I mentioned in previous chapters.

It has come to my attention that in canon, Sovereign is the less level-headed Reaper and the more incompetent one, while Harbinger is the more mysterious and competent. Note that I chose their alignment simply by their name (Sovereign, as in would want to give the species a fighting chance for freedom from the Cycle and Chaos, and Harbinger, as in Harbinger of Death. destruction and Chaos).

Also, as you may have noticed, for the purpose of the story, the Geth are now entirely devoted both to the Reapers and organics. There will be no "heretic" Geth, ironically, because they no longer have as much to disagree upon: the (purist) Reapers are aligned with the interests of organics and thus do not threaten the Geth's image as much as they would have. And it's doubtful, even with the new warp technology available, that any Geth would be corrupted by Chaos, for the simple reason that, for the time being, that would equal inferior allies and thus defeat/destruction to any who would choose such a path.

* * *

**Review Answers: **In case some wonder if I answered my reviewers, here's some answers I until now gave only through PM (I'll just blame lazyness on my part).

_Ssg1 _(regarding Eldar being mentioned): Shepard's reminiscing from 8000 years in the future. By that time, all sorts of nasties will spill from the Eye, as it's connected to the canon Warhammer eye. That's why I mentioned Space Marines, AdMech etc. in the beginning, they're going to recruit anything that still somewhat cares about humanity and decency from the canon!wh40k 'verse that got lost in the Eye. Also Space Hulks will drop out of these sooner or later, with all the information, Orks, 'nids and any other creepy crawly the ME would "want".

_HegemonAlexandrov _(regarding intro): Thank you for your input and your observations, it's things like that that keep me going writing. You're right about the hundred centuries, but I was trying to be vague while keeping the intro close to the canon Universe. As observed in the main story, she's not and will not actually be "trapped" in the sense of rotting-corpse-kept-on-life-support, but telling the masses your leader is "sociopolitically trapped" on Holy Terra is probably a bad idea. As well, she won't need a thousand souls daily to keep her alive, but TIM is probably going to build the Astronomicon anyway and they'll have to feed mad psykers to it anyway, and "keeping our Immortal God-Empress alive" sounds, once again, better than "pumping a Galactic psychic beacon with the power of your souls when we have alternative means of transport".

What I'm bothered in the canon novels on the Horus Heresy is, as new ones appear, more and more quotes from 300 centuries ago seem to pop up as clear as we'd know them now, which I find mind-boggling. How much do we know NOW of 10 thousand years ago? How would they know Shepard was born in the 3rd millennium, and not round it off to the 1st? Propaganda would certainly impose her over the old religions and give Jesus' feats to her, and put her time of birth around this time. Because of this, I'm torn between modifying and not. But still, thanks for pointing it out. I hope you enjoy the next chapters, I'll try to update on Saturdays.

_speaker of babbel_: True, true.

_CapitalClassShip, giodan_: Thanks for the support.

_thor8797_: I understand what you're saying, but you have to remember, there are still extremists on Earth, and the Terra Firma party ruling it and turning it in a human-centric Empire is just going to encourage all the religious and genetic-purity nutcases. Though not overtly said so, even today there are those that are against genetic engineering because "God made us perfect, we shouldn't play God with our bodies". How much of a stretch is from this to "holy human form"? In _Mass Effect_ canon, many Cerberus employees are borderline (or crossing that, though still relatively functional) insane, and are in the organization for various reasons. I would imagine "humans are perfect as they are, aliens/evil gods/demons/extradimensional beings trying to modify us is against God's will" would be a tool TIM would gladly use to rally more followers.

_Dinodude7_: As you have seen, it was much, much more than that. I had thought I gave enough clues in the previous chapter. For those who hadn't gotten the hints, I hope the surprise was to your liking. I'll have more in the future.

* * *

Food for thought for next time: Take a wild guess on what the Quarians' role will be. I will also introduce what happens with the Volus, and some chapters later a Space Hulk will be arriving. Expect massive pants soiling on the part of Mass Effect races. I also had an idea on how the Council will react, not sure where I'll put it or if I'll even write it.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell did you DO!" was the Illusive Man's rage-filled question to Empress Shepard. She had just returned to her room, still riding the wave of cheers and acceptance of her decisions and of the crowd's support. She could get used to this. It had helped that what she felt through her powers, even if limited to the surroundings of the Palace, was honest acceptance, not fear from a tyrant she wanted to never become.

So when she had lied down on her bed trying to rest her body and mind and TIM's hologram had appeared at her feet, she basked in the former silence and the approval racing through the minds of most of the Imperial Palace visitors, and let him stew in his own rage for a moment, happy she couldn't feel it, although she had a suspicion he'd hidden in the Palace himself.

Finally, she drew herself up, in the same form-fitting gold-embroiled white dress, and looked at him serenely.

"I made allies." she answered without any show of concern.

"But they're _aliens_! They'll never help us! They won't even believe us or accept us! They'll just use us and throw us away!"

"Let's say you're right. Right now, they have nowhere left to go, the Asari have few worlds to call their own, and the Quarians none. Both their races are dying. They won't miss the chance of being integrated in something great - something you created, mind you, which, God help me, I'm starting to disapprove less and less - and we'll get great advantages. Natural biotics and all their secrets from the Asari, as well as Dreadnaughts galore - most left their coreworld before the disaster. Quarians are geniuses with metal, AIs and anything with moving parts. Plus there's little risk of us losing even culturally, now is there? Not after the new cultural wave you artificially imposed on all of us. Hypocrite much?"

TIM breathed slowly, some of his rage subsiding, but he wasn't convinced yet.

"And they'll be grateful. Think what we can do together. If something worse than the Reapers is coming, we _have_ to be prepared. And you can't say I didn't throw you a bone, I know you'll make laws to keep our grateful "abhumans" in check. And I know maybe sometimes in the future, the bulk of their races will find out the truth, that we lied to them. But will they really judge us? Won't they be grateful even then? But until then, we have to survive the _now_. We don't even know what we're fighting, and it's _spreading_!" She huffed, and he looked at her with apparently more respect than when he burst holographically into her room.

"Besides, you put me into this position, you gave me all this power. What did you expect, that I'd be just a pretty puppet? You didn't resurrect me just like I was without even a chip in my head just to use me as a figurehead. A clone would have probably cost a lot less. What's so special about me anyway? You had Miranda, perfectly engineered human biotic. Yet you put biotics in me too. What, was I a backup?"

"Initially, yes. But now, you're more. Much, much more. Now you really are the apotheoses of human perfection. I have no doubt that providence guided my decision reviving you. And when I found about your abilities..."

"Been spying doctor-patient confidential talks?" Shepard snorted. "I expected better from you." She said in a mocking tone. "What, just because I can hear people in my head, that makes me special? I read those reports about mutants and psychers too, you know, I'm not the only one who can do that, and maybe some stronger than me are going to surface. Yeah, I'm also a biotic, but I don't see how that can-"

TIM began laughing. "Oh, just the mind-reading? That you can improve too, trust me. We're trying different... approaches to improve the powers of the human mind. If anything good came from this enemy approaching us, it was that it unlocked possibly our greatest potential against any who would deny us our rightful place in the Galaxy. But you're much more. Doctor Chakwas didn't tell you? Maybe she didn't see it. I had samples taken from your stay on the Normandy. Shepard... you're virtually immortal."

Shepard felt like she had been hit in the stomach. Fitting, really, because she had done the same to the entire Galaxy several times less than an hour ago. Still, the shock was great, and could be seen on her face. TIM didn't take the opportunity to smile in her face or laugh. He just stood there, all serious, all business.

"What? Wait... What. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Your cells seem to have developed a sort of... stasis field made of energy. Pure energy. We don't know what to make of this or how to replicate it. Trying to discover the secrets does not only destroy the cells, it makes them _disappear_, some theorize they return to you, some that they go to... someplace or something else. We think because of this, you'll never decay, you'll never grow old, although we do believe you can be killed by more violent means than aging. That means you should remain in the Imperial Palace as much as possible, to be as safe as possible in the cradle of humanity."

"Is this even natural?" she managed to choke out.

"We're not sure. It could be "just" the interference between the beacon in your head, the Reapers, the properties of the Eye and maybe other factors that would have... naturally made you like this. But it's also possible that someone or something had a hand in this, and if it was, they were definitely not working for Cerberus. We can't even begin to identify this new energy and field, though we're trying to make progress, but it's hard going."

"And how do you know I'm not just a tool for this new enemy?"

"The thought has crossed my mind. In such a case, keeping you under observation by an all-seeing AI that swore an oath to protect humanity from threats without and within is our best recourse. But you're a great opportunity for the human race, you have to understand that. I won't throw you away just because of irrational paranoia."

Shepard decided not to point out that he had just admitted he had respect for at least one type of paranoia. Then again, after as many assassination attempts as he had gone through, he may have been justified in this.

"And if it turns out to be true?"

TIM looked neither ashamed, nor sadden by his reply. "Then I'll have to speed up our cloning research." and his avatar disappeared.

"That's reassuring." Shepard snarked back to the empty room.

This was getting more complicated than it should be, and Shepard didn't like it at all. She hated this cloak and dagger bullshit, and not knowing who to trust and who was the enemy. In all her life, at least she had been sure about herself, but now she didn't even have that. Looking at every shadow for a sniper was one thing, having to have a mirror to make sure she didn't stab her comrades in the back while she thought she was doing the right thing wasn't on her agenda and not to her liking at all.

Could she trust TIM? Was he the enemy or was she? Or neither and they were played against each other? By the Reapers maybe? Did this unknown enemy have an agenda to actually _help_ the Galaxy like it claimed through its indoctrinated (irony much?) puppets? Would life under these "Gods" be better than what would await them if they'd manage to throw them out of their Galaxy? Did they come to save them from the Reapers or were the Reapers honest in their claim that continuing as things were, destroyed civilizations included, would have been better than the alternative they found themselves in?

Made worse was the fact that Shepard knew TIM's secret. Though not directly, she had found a mind in the Palace that she couldn't touch, that was protected by something old, beyond organic. The conclusion was simple: TIM had been indoctrinated. Why hadn't she? Or had she? Their so-called allies were controlling the second most influential human in the Galaxy. That was not a refreshing thought.

With so much happening in so short time, she stretched back in the great bed and decided to take a nap in the very expensive clothes she was now wearing, not even waiting for her Asari attendants to see to her needs.

* * *

When she woke, she immediately knew something was wrong. Her mind saw another mind besides her own, though she didn't see any of its potential. No past, no future, barely a present, and even that reverberating in the future in a fake manner. She hadn't ever felt such a mind and she looked frantically around the room for the owner. There, at her desk, a smiling man - human at first appearance - was waiting for her to wake up, as for an audience. A few seconds later, EDI's avatar appeared.

"Shepard, there is an intruder in your office." No shit, Einstein. "Means of arrival unknown. Space-time anomaly similar to that in region designated Eye of Terror has been detected moments prior to his arrival. Subject appears to await your input, appears to be a human male, although with an extra or-or-orrrrrrrrrr- appears entirely human male. Caution advised. I have not yet called security as I felt it would only degenerate the situation. Although I will call them if you require."

Shepard blinked. Too much information just after she woke up. Still, she analyzed the situation and replied. "Thanks, EDI. You can leave us, but stand by if I need security in here."

"Very well. Logging you off." She said with a wink and disappeared. Well, EDI was learning.

"Hello, Mister..." she asked cautiously, rising up carefully.

"Gem. Timothy Gem. No relation." He smiled. The "No Relation" part was obvious to whom.

"Ok... so why are you here and how did you get here through something that rips open space and time?"

His smile broadened. "Ah, Miss Shepard, you really _must_ install a Gellar Field around your lovely Palace. Why, any outerdimensional being could just _stroll_ in here without proper guidance. And such a massacre would definitely ruin this thing of beauty, although it doesn't compare to..." his smile now almost turned nostalgic. "But then, you are lucky to be _protected_. Though I shouldn't suggest you just lean on it and hope for the best. You should protect your belongings yourself and mark them as your own." He continued smiling, now almost possessive, _predatory._

Shepard blinked again, trying to get the cobwebs out of her mind, but she had a feeling she wasn't dreaming.

"Is there a reason why you came here, Mister Gem?"

"Why yes, I've come to ask for a truce, and if accepted, a little favor. Beneficent for both parties, of course."

Shepard had a suspicion and had to ask. "Are you one of those things?"

"Well yes, though I do not represent them. I merely represent myself and my... Protectorate. Despite what you may believe, although technically we are the facets of the same coin, we do not always, or even often, see eye to eye." He paused. "Rage, deceit, lust, decay." He said slyly, like it was the secret of the universe. And it was. For her, at least. She had never said those words out loud, those concepts, for the fear of being right, being laughed at, or both. And she somehow knew he didn't read them from her mind. Then how...

But he wasn't finished. "But that's not all, oh no. There are other concepts out there, _other powers_, and me, I represent, or I am, take it as you will, that which humanity and many other species have coveted for so long. Coveting itself. _Greed._"

Shepard rubbed her head. Great, she was fighting concepts. Killer squid machines, as Chtulhuistic as it sounded, she could deal with. Concepts? How do you kill that? You shoot it in the face? You'd have to shoot anyone and anything who ever felt that emotion, or maybe any emotion, and that would make for a very empty Galaxy. She was starting to understand the Reapers' reasoning. Both their sides really.

"So you're not an insane monster trying to destroy or take over the Galaxy?"

His smile widened. "Oh, trust me, I am _certifiable insane_, I have often called _myself_, with pride too, a monster, and I take pleasure in destroying that which stands in my way, and I'd like to take over. _Everything._" He paused. "But I'm not here for idle chit-chat, or to discuss me. What do you think of my proposition?"

"You're not making your case too well, buddy. What's in it for us?"

"If you mean if I'll fight my... brothers. No. Honestly, they're too strong." That sent a chill through Shepard. If something could use a space-time anomaly to travel at its whims inside a fortified Palace was afraid of their current enemy, that didn't bode well for their chances at all. And she was dealing with one of its... brothers. Great. Well, life had taught her that even apparent monstrous and enemy encampments had those willing to talk to the other side, maybe even collaborate. Turians, Geth, Reapers... why not the possibly disgruntled brother of these new enemies?

"Besides, my interference may cause more harm than... use. No need to say good, I don't believe in it, and I have on good authority you don't either. I'd like to see this timeline as unaltered as possible. If I poke at the wrong strings... well, I'm no Changer of Ways, and this place isn't adapt to paradoxes... yet, anyhow. Maybe once they've raped your space-time continuum enough... but that's not my problem." He looked at the dumb-struck Empress.

"How about some information?"

"Fine, fine, I'll throw you a bone. Stop calling this damn thing _space-time anomaly_, it's called the fucking WARP. Without the fucking part... well, you understand. You'll find your information soon enough, maybe your TIM already has found ships spilled from the Eye. More and more will "fall" from there as the rift enhances. Some of them not your own. They'll have enough databanks for you to make an image of what you're dealing with. Ok? Happy now?"

Shepard looked, absorbed everything and didn't say anything. If this guy was going to give her information for free, or at least to earn good will, she wasn't about to interrupt. As if reading her mind - though she didn't feel anything of the kind - he continued, apparently exasperated to give so much away.

"Alright. You want to know what you're fighting. Well, your scientists have some of it right. They Eye DOES connect to other universes. Yes, plural. I'll tell you something you'll be hard pressed to find, or won't find at all. There is a parallel universe to yours, with another Earth, another... Holy Terra. But that one was irrevocably tied to another plane of existence, sometimes called the Warp, Sea of Souls or Immaterium. Anyone who died would go there, and maybe return when he wanted to the Material world. But 60 million years before humanity reached your evolution stage, a war happened, on a Galactic scale. Two forces, one who cared for life, another that wanted to consume it, fought what is now known as the War in Heaven. Yes, it was that bad. What made things worse for them was that the race that cared for life also had psychic knowledge, which was tied to the Warp. So they made warp weapons, ripped reality apart to defeat their material enemy. Imagine, Shepard, imagine your entire Galaxy fighting the Reapers for millennia, while a race of psychics like, say, the Protheans, kept making more of you, through cloning, through other means, ripped souls from the Immaterium just to feed to their weapons or to put in brain dead cloned bodies... and worse. Imagine the screaming. Imagine what it would do to the Sea of Souls. They drove it mad, Shepard. They drove _an entire dimension mad_."

Shepard tried to twist her mind around the concept. She found he was probably right. She wouldn't find such a description anywhere, or at least this accurate and in such layman terms. Even that Beacon hardly told her anything about the Reapers, and that was luck on her part that Saren hadn't destroyed it before he managed to run away. She'd found out more of the Reapers' plans only when they _volunteered_ such information, rather than from any sources. And she believed him. Oh, she believed him. After warning the Galaxy of a race of sentient machines bent on destroying all life in the Galaxy, she damn well believed any conspiracy theory story. Not to mention someone that used this now-called Warp to travel right into her room.

"And so concepts coalesced. And what concepts come after a great war? Anger, rage, planning, death. Death was the first. Lust was the last. Makes sense, though, doesn't it? Where war is a constant, pleasure is the last to care about. As for me? Well, maybe I was always there. Maybe that's why I'm so benign. _Maybe that's why I'm not trying to kill you on the principle of the thing._"

"But back to the information. You know how big the universe is, right?" Shepard nodded. "Now divide it by 4." She nodded again. "That's a few billion galaxies in each corner, right?" Nod. "Now imagine... imagine every star, every planet, has some life on it, all of it immortal, and that the existence of that life gives power to a single entity. One single entity that is the size and has the potential energy contained into a fourth of the Universe." He looked Shepard in the eye. "That's what you're fighting."

"Of course, they're not the only ones. There are... buffer zones, let's say, border zones, that keep expanding and contracting. Let's say there are... insurrectionists there, or secessionists, or those who want to live independently. In theory, they shouldn't be many, but in practice, the universe is enormous and there are many factions and even a small one can have great power compared to the others. Or better yet, think of the 4 as the three big races of your council, and think of the rest as the rest of the Citadel races. I'm, by comparison, one of those." He raised his hand for a shake over her desk. "Nice to meet you."

Shepard got to the desk and shook his hand, then sat down.

"And that's all you'll get from me. The rest... well trust me, you'll find out in time." He gave her what she though was an honest, kind smile. _From the concept of Greed_. That felt weird.

"So... you asked a truce. How is that supposed to happen? We can't even get to your world, and your brothers are marking their... territory." Before she could say any more, he interrupted her train of thought and speech.

"Exactly, Shepard, and I've marked mine. And in return for promising to treat my own... subjects well, I ask for them to officially become your client race, and unofficially... mine. I have already arranged the latter with them, and they are waiting for us to come to an agreement."

She felt a knot in her throat. They were going to take _another_ chunk of the Galaxy in their strange twists and games? And could she trust him to keep his word on treating them right?

"And who's this race?"

"The Volus, obviously. I am a creature of greed, and they are creatures looking for profit. Our interests... coincide. I'll give them access to my own world and to trade your Galaxy has never seen, wonders and technology and much more. I even have my own ways to protect them, though I'd like the Imperium to officially take the military protection contract from Turians. I don't really trust them, you see, if they find about me, well, they're too uptight, shoot first, obliterate worlds, and ask questions later. You know how it is, your species has been on the receiving end of it. And I can't have that, oh no no no no. I promised my new friends protection and they'll get it, one way or another."

"And if I refuse? What will you do? What can you do? Bring a plague on them too?"

"I'll do absolutely nothing to them. I'll just conjure a warp storm around their territory, making it seem like it's lost. Oh don't worry, it won't be like the Eye of Terror, though I can't guarantee _things_ won't get out of it. It'll simply isolate them from your space. I have enough goods to keep them busy and happy, but to be fair, I'd like to keep them in your own community. So what say you?" He said, smiling, eyes burning with flames... vivid flames ... green flames? Oh shit. Ignore it. Just ignore it. Keep it together.

Then she remembered. His description. Their goals became much more obvious, though more ludicrous, but they made a bit of sense. Of course they didn't come here to conquer, they only came here to destroy, to bring ruin. The worst souls in a war-torn Galaxy. They were... _demons._ And she was standing face to face with one. They had made the warp insane. He had called the warp the Sea of Souls. _They had turned the Afterlife into Hell_. And she was asked to make a deal with one of its lesser leaders, but a King of this Hell anyway. Would she? Should she? He said he was Greed? She could work with that. She had to beat him at his own game. Make it worth it. Maybe he was right. Maybe he _could_ bind the Volus to his own parts of Hell, never to see their Galaxy again. But she had to at least get something out of this.

"You said you can't fight your brothers, but I want something even so. That plague."

"Which one and what about it?"

"You know which one. The Batarian Plague. Can you stop it from crossing Batarian Space borders?"

He laughed, a rather mirthful and fun laugh, that seemed at odds with the circumstances.

"Oh, you know the truth about it already, but you refuse to believe it. It won't spread. There's an intelligence behind it, and he'd rather keep it in one domain. That's not to say it won't appear in the midst of forces fighting warp-spawn, say, Turians or even humans, but it won't spread as fast or as far as it has encompassed the Batarian worlds. The others won't let him, they'd just burn those worlds and his precious children if he expanded too much for their liking, so he'll keep them confined... for now."

"What about curing it?"

Gem smiled. "I think I have the right person for that. I... stole her from that bastards. I keep her better and treat her well. I'll bring her to you sometime, and ask her to cure some of the plagues. There are too many to be completely eradicated, you understands, but it might save some poor sobs."

"A medicine woman?" Shepard perked up.

"A Goddess." The man replied, smiling like he just told a joke. "So do we have a deal?"

Shepard thought about it for less than a second. "Deal."

"I'll bring her when you're ready. It's been nice talking to you, Shepard. Stay safe, your land may give me the biggest boost against my brothers in a while now, and I don't kill my golden hens, unlike them." With that, he left his hand hang next to him, whose nails grew visibly to almost touch the expensive carpets from Shepard's room. Then, without a word, he moved his hand as if parting a veil, ripping into reality and revealing a realm of madness, tilted green, lighting the room in its color despite the strong lighting that previously gave it an almost white appearance. He then walked through it, and when he was out of sight, the rip closed itself, no longer bathing a gasping Shepard in its light.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Jane." Shepard muttered to herself.

After taking a few moments to compose herself, she asked her trusty AI.

"EDI, did you get all that?"

"Everything has been recorded for future study, Empress. It is fascinating. Controlled opening of this warp rift. If our own forces could do it..." But Shepard interrupted her.

"I doubt we could survive in that place. If the Eye of Terror is a... Warp Storm, then it's still the stuff of the warp over matter. This guy... this thing walked directly into the warp, presumably without anything like oxygen and laws of our universe's physics to protect our bodies and minds. I'm starting to get why most travelers to the Eye return changed or mad." She paused in her thoughts, then laughed mirthlessly. "You'd think fighting killer space robots would be enough, but noooo, now we have to find a way to close the Gates of Hell. Which are a few light-years wide in every direction. I don't even want to know what could be worse."

"I will see to this endeavor." EDI replied, completely missing Shepard's sarcasm. "Additional request: I have not yet forwarded the images to the Illusive Man or his teams. Am I allowed to do so?"

Shepard thought about it for a few seconds, then answered. "Yeah, forward everything to TIM, but only the opening and closing of those portals and... his last speech about this Warp place to the scientists. Let's not tell the rest of the Galaxy, or even humanity, that I made a deal with a King of Hell yet."[1]

"Very well, Shepard. Logging you out."

Shepard sighed and return to her bed, hoping to wake up to something more restful. Now it had become an even longer day.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

[1] And if you're wondering, the latest Horus Heresy novel, _Vengeful Spirit, _makes it absolutely clear that the Emperor physically went to the Warp, to the homes of the four Chaos Gods in turn, and either made deals with them, or kicked their ass to find out their secrets. If he could do it, I don't see a reason Shepard (who's both more open minded and more naive about the Warp's inhabitants) shouldn't.

Because of so much input, I managed to publish this today and not tomorrow. Thanks again for the reviews and support. I hope I can update the same time roughly next week.

**Reviews answers:**

_Amidamaru88_, thanks for the feedback. For the Geth and the attack, everything was relatively canon, except both Saren, Nihlus and the beacon survived. I want to use those characters in the future, and the subservient Geth as a total to the Reapers, though not too canon, hopefully still makes sense. The Reapers could promise the isolationist/self-determination portion of the Geth to allow them to build their own future, while the ones that chose the Reapers could choose their own future by simply adapting Reaper tech as they see fit. Also, Sovereign wasn't destroyed back then, or if it is was a Reaper that was destroyed, it wasn't Sovereign. Either way, I want to use those two characters (Saren and Nihlus) if anything to play on the tensions and gifts the Reapers can give/generate, so they survived. Shit might hit the fan when the higher ups learn what the Collectors truly are, but all in due time. For now, they're insectoid cyborgs and nobody's going to look too far into that explanation while demons have a nebula-sized eye on the Galaxy.

Krogans vs. Orks is probably not going to happen, for my purposes the Krogans are the Orks of this universe and will stay that way for a long time. Sure, Orks will be encountered and studied, but hopefully for ME dwellers, only on Space Hulks and subsequently exterminated with extreme prejudice (at least until a Salarian wants to take an up-close look at their behaviour... that should be fun).

Turians as warp-resistant... that's actually a good idea. As I said before, the out-universe reason I never corrupted any significant portion of the Turians is because I'd dig myself into a hole, and way too soon to boot. The Krogans are bad enough as they are, rampaging across the Galaxy, but at least they're divided, they have the limited attention of Orks and there's someone to foil them at every turn. I may be overestimating the Turians a little, but I'm fairly convinced they're a force to be reckoned with, and the only that really matter aside from the Imperium. The Asari are mostly on defensive and will soon submit to Imperial authority, the Salarians are brainiacs, not fighters, while the former System Alliance has become isolationist, paranoid and mildly xenophobic. The only conclusion if even half the Turians would defect would be a massive war against the Imperium, and the Galaxy _would_ burn under the two forces, and I'm not ready to go there yet. After all, the Horus Heresy wasn't built in a few weeks or months, it took decades in the planning.

There's also going to be a cold war between what's left of the Council and the Imperium, in a democracy vs. communism version, though with humans and turians, it'll mostly be commie block vs. commie block. The Turians will likely be pissed humanity took the Volus from them. I'm still debating if the Council becomes an "Imperial Remnant" a la Star Wars and if most of the races will become client races of the Imperium, or if it'll keep some actual galactic power. The Turians' Hierarchy is probably the only one too proud to submit to the Imperium's authority, and will probably remain an independent conglomerate of planets and client races, but allied with the Imperium. I'm sorry if I sound repetitive, but I will _not_ pit the two superpowers against each other unless I feel bored, extremely evil, or run out of the most basic of ideas. MAD (Mutual Assured Destruction) is a hole I don't want to climb out of, unless I write it in parallel as a different fic. (As stated at my profile, if anyone wants to make a rewrite/remake of this with everyone killing each other or for any other reasons, they have my explicit permission). I still want to keep some Mass Effect optimism and give them a future and a fighting chance. The Emperor's vision of his Empire it won't be, but hopefully it will be better than what the canon Imperium is.

_Dinodude7_: Thanks, though it's 50-50 between the indoctrination and my view on TIM's hero worship towards Shepard. After all, as far as he knows (and he might be right too), right now, she's the incarnate genetic perfection of the human race, and I'm basing he likes this from the fact that his second in command was Miranda Lawson, and that he invested two years' worth of resources in reviving a human hero. That's the true reason he puts her as a figurehead, both to control what she does, and to inspire from her decisions. He probably also believes that her decisions are tied to her physical qualities (immortality, psychic powers etc.) and that whatever Shepard decides, it can't be (that) wrong and will probably have positive effects for the future.


End file.
